Bend and Break
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Held prisoner by the mad scientist, Sephiroth learns more about himself and his past than he could have imagined.
1. Intrinsic

**Kingdom Hearts II**

**Bend and Break**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: The characters are not mine, and this fic is. This is the first chapter/introduction for something bigger, and this part was inspired by the prompts **_**Infinite riches in a little room**_** from 31 Days, and **_**Restraint**_** from Key Blade.  
**

* * *

Research was a beautiful thing.

He had been scorned, rejected, by the scientific community as a whole. The power of hearts was a very dangerous thing to tamper with; the case of Ansem's wayward apprentices was well-known. And shouldn't all scientists have learned from that? He should not be looking to open such a Pandora's box.

But he would not make the same mistakes as Xehanort and his crew. They had not been anywhere as advanced in their research as he was. Not even Ansem was comparable. But Ansem had always been the more celebrated. That would soon change. Once his experimentation was completed, all would have to acknowledge his superiority.

And of course, he must have the most worthy subject possible. Previously, this one's captivity had only been a test, an examination of his mysterious extra appendages and his strength of heart. He had been released on purpose, to be observed from a distance. But now the time had come to fully enact the treacherous plans. This time he would not be set free.

He crossed the room to where the beaten form was manacled to the wall. Forced to stand, the specimen's hands and his neck were drooping. His head was resting against his right shoulder, the eyes closed. Above him, the large blue wing was half-folded, hanging to the side. From his waist, the lower wings were limp, brushing against his legs and feet, and the floor.

Before, he had been made to sit naked on the floor, on a sheet. This time he had been allowed to keep his trousers. His captor really was feeling generous.

A harsh and rough hand reached out, gripping the younger man by the jaw. Green eyes flew open.

"Ah, so you are conscious."

The emerald ice bored into the white-cloaked man with abhorrence. No words left his lips. Speech was unnecessary. There was nothing he wanted to say to this monster.

"Still silent? What a pity." The hand turned the other's head to the side, where the ugly bruise on his right temple was visible. "You really shouldn't fight back so much. Then maybe it wouldn't always go so rough for you."

The upper wing began to tense. Without restraints, it was a useful fighting tool. If this wretch would not remove his hands, then he would be swatted away. And he knew it would happen. But he kept coming back, defiantly touching his victim. And the hatred grew.

At last the jaw was released. The researcher stepped back, his gaze traveling over the exhausted form. The thoughtful gleam in his eye only made the winged being all the more alert.

"You're really a find, you know. Not every scientist is so fortunate to discover the perfect experiment. You are both strong of mind and of body." Now he reached up, squeezing the muscles on an arm. The hand clenched. "But can you be broken? Can even the great Sephiroth sink into complete and utter despair?"

Sephiroth never took his gaze away from his captor. It would not only be unwise, but unsatisfying for his pride. To look away could be interpreted as becoming submissive. And he never would. He would fight against this madman to the very end.

"I wonder what your Nobody would be like," the monster said. "Would he still care about Zack Fair and Cloud Strife, or at least, remember that he had cared? Or would he be an empty shell? And what would you be like as a Heartless? Still defiant? Would you even manage to keep your human form, as another famed scientist did?"

Sephiroth had to keep his expression impassive. Even Hojo would not do that, would he? Wouldn't Hojo want to experiment on all of him? He was always so intrigued by matters of the mind. But it was true that he was also fascinated by matters of the heart.

The slightest spark of fear was ignited in his soul. What sort of Hell had he been thrust into? Would he ever be released? Once again there was a magic barrier. He could not attack with fire. He could not teleport. He had been left to his own physical and mental strength. Not that it was not exceptional. But after being able to use his powers for so long, it was not pleasing to be without them. Even without the barrier, he could not teleport while in bonds, but there were times when his hands and feet were free. He had tried to get away on those occasions, fighting back in desperation, but Hojo always had more henchmen than Sephiroth could beat at once. And as time wore on, he was growing weaker. He was beaten and experimented on every day.

_Oh God . . . help me._

Zack and Cloud must be worried sick. They were searching everywhere on Hollow Bastion for him, but would they ever think to look beyond their homeland? Would they think to look in Castle Oblivion?

The white that decorated the walls and gave the entire building a bright cast was so inappropriate, considering the devilry that was taking place.

The calloused hand was placed over his heart. "It's beating faster," Hojo smirked. "Are you afraid of me yet? Or is it just the anger and rage boiling through your veins?" A pause. "I wonder how I could best use your dark emotions to my advantage. Especially without your friends here. Should I let them know where you are? Should we have them come here for you?"

The green eyes widened in alarm. No . . . that could not happen. Hojo would do it. He would definitely do it. And Zack and Cloud would not be allowed to leave with him in peace. Hojo would capture them too, and torture them in front of Sephiroth.

Being with this demon was deplorable and repulsive, but he would choose it any day over watching him experiment on the others.

Hojo leaned closer, whispering into Sephiroth's ear as if he was telling a great secret. "I remember when you ran from me as a child," he said. "You hid behind one table and then another, and finally resorted to climbing inside a metal cabinet. Of course I found you. It was so fitting. You were curled in a fetal position, trembling from sheer terror, your eyes wide like an animal's. You had no qualms about showing me your fear then."

The blood ran cold in Sephiroth's veins. He strained to pull away, craning his neck to look at the madman as best as he could. What . . . what was he talking about? He had never met Hojo before last year. How could they have known each other when he was a small child? He had been raised all during his youth by a respectable general and his wife. It was impossible!

Hojo drew back as well, sneering at Sephiroth with yellow teeth. "You're confused now. You can't hide it." He grabbed the other's jaw again. "And you wonder how what I said could be the truth, don't you?"

Sephiroth glowered, again readying the upper wing. He would not stand for always being touched this way.

But in the next instant, all thoughts of attacking fled.

"You were adopted, Sephiroth. Oh, you don't remember? Your mother gave her life to bring you to the home where you were raised." Hojo leaned closer, his hot breath hitting Sephiroth in the face. "She was running from me. I am your father."

Sephiroth could only stare, struck dumb. His heart was pounding in his ears. No . . . no, it was not true. It was a lie! It was just the kind of wretched, twisted lie Hojo would make up to torment him! His father was honorable. His father had loved and cared about him. His mother had lived until he had been seventeen. Lies! All lies!

"I kept watch over you for years," Hojo smirked. "I planned our meeting so carefully---how it would happen, what I would say, how you would react. Then I decided it would be more fun to make your acquaintance without telling you of my identity. And what better time than when you suddenly appeared after a year-long absence with these amazing creations?" He touched the wing, sinking his fingers into the down. The appendage stiffened.

"I wondered who could have done such a thing to you. I wanted to meet the scientist, for surely he was much more skilled than I. And after your first visit with me, I was even more perplexed. I found that it looks like the wings are growing right from your body, as if they were always natural. And we both know that isn't the case." He petted the wing for a moment before withdrawing his hand. Sephiroth's frozen visage, drained of color, was such a delight to behold.

"You still don't believe me, Sephiroth?" He fished in his front pocket, searching for something that he had placed there. His smirk widened upon locating the object, and he drew it out, holding it in front of Sephiroth's stricken eyes. "This picture was taken almost twenty-nine years ago. You were two years old."

Sephiroth's stare turned to the small photograph. It was obviously old, the edges weathered with age and the colors fading. But the subjects of the picture were still clearly visible---a brown-haired woman, her eyes filled with deep-rooted fear, holding a child in her arms. The tiny hands were grasping the end of the woman's braid, the green eyes displaying irritation at being interrupted. A shock of silver hair fell around his face.

He knew the boy. He had seen pictures of him at that age, and beyond, but never any pictures of him as an infant. His mother had told him some story about the photos from then being lost, and as a child, he had believed it. Now, it was such a red flag. It fit in with Hojo's tale. Those pictures were not lost; they had never existed. His true mother and father had never taken pictures of him as a baby, because he had not been with them then.

But no! It was not true! It was a coincidence. His parents would not have lied to him. They would have told him if he was adopted!

"I threatened your father," Hojo smiled, as if reading Sephiroth's mind. "I let him know that he was not to ever tell you that you were not biologically his. And I backed up my threats by having his brother killed."

A new wave of hatred surged through the former general. That was how his father's beloved brother had died? They had thought it had been an accident, a tragic car wreck. But Hojo had been behind it? Hojo had been ripping apart the hearts of Sephiroth's loved ones for all of his life, not just in the past year?

"Well, Sephiroth?" Hojo sneered. "Do you have anything to say?"

The green eyes narrowed. His lips parted. ". . . Even if you, and this woman, were responsible for bringing me into the world," he said, every word filled with venom, "you are not, and never will be, my father."

Hojo laughed. Gooseflesh rose on Sephiroth's arms, and not because he was shirtless.

At last the madman replaced the photograph in his pocket. "The next experiment is in five hours," he said, turning to go. "Sleep, if you can."

With that his treacherous footsteps echoed throughout the spacious room, fading as he reached the door and walked through it into the hall.

Sephiroth slumped into the wall, shaking, his fists clenching again. The bile had risen in his throat. After what he had been told, the urge to get rid of it was strong. But he swallowed, pushing it down once more.

He shut his eyes tightly.

What a nightmare. What a horrible, unending nightmare.


	2. Catch Me As I Fall

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help! And the female scientist is my character.  
**

* * *

**Chapter One**

_**31 Days: Clad in the Beauty of a Thousand Stars**_

_**Key Blade: Disruption**_

_She is running._

_I can see her from behind as she flees over the wooded, grassy area---her long brown hair streaming out in a ponytail, her white coat's edges flapping in the breeze---the starlight highlighting her form. She is clutching something in her arms, holding onto it as if her very life depends on keeping it safe. I cannot see what it is. Whatever it is, is wrapped in a dark blanket._

_There is an intense feeling of panic as she stumbles around a corner, nearly tripping over a rock. But then, regaining her balance, she rushes on. Something is chasing her . . . or someone. She does not want them to catch up, to rip away what she is carrying. I can almost hear the pounding of her heart, to reach out and touch the tension in the air._

_Vague words are breathed, barely discernible at first. Her voice is soft and terrified._

_"Please . . . please don't wake up. . . . Please don't cry out. . . ."_

_She runs under an overhanging cliff at what appears to be the blue canyons, the Dark Depths. Her strength is spent, and yet she still must go on. She knows this, but for the moment she sinks down, trembling as she pulls back the folds of the blanket._

_Bright, confused green eyes blink up at her. It's a child . . . a boy, not more than two years old, perhaps even younger. Sensing her fear, he moves close to her, snuggling against her breast as he hugs her. A shock of silver hair is revealed as the covering falls._

_"Mommy?" The young voice is hesitant and doubtful, as well as bewildered. He wonders why she is so upset._

_She begins to silently weep, holding him close to her as she lays her head against his. It's as if she realizes she will never see him after this is over._

Sephiroth started awake, his eyes snapping open. He was breathing roughly, his chest heaving with the motions. He sank back against the cold, white marble, barely acknowledging the iciness against his flesh.

It seemed that he should still be in the dream world. He should still see the woman. He should yet hear her panicked voice. And the child should still be there, confused and innocent as he embraced his mother. But instead it was the reality of Castle Oblivion and the endless captivity.

It would be nice to make the excuse that he had had the dream because of what Hojo had said, and that the characters had been influenced by the photograph. But that would not explain why the incubus had come periodically over the last few years, intensifying with each replay. And each time he dreamed the scenario, he saw more of what had happened. This had been the first time he had heard the child address the woman.

The fact of the boy being himself had bothered him ever since he had seen the identity. He had told Zack about it when he had awakened from the first nightmare that had pictured the child; not by his express choice, but because he had fallen out of bed and Zack had heard and come running. And of course, he had managed to get Sephiroth to tell all.

He closed his eyes again, remaining awake, but recollecting their conversation. It was so much more pleasant to think of that, when he had been safe at home with his friends, then to focus on the horror of his current location.

_"Seph?"_

_I look over at Zack in the doorway. His hair is a wild mess, and he's trying in vain to choke back a yawn. At the moment he doesn't have his cane, and instead has a hand placed on the doorframe. His other hand is over his mouth._

_"You okay, pal?" he asks as the yawn finally passes. "You look kinda upset."_

_"I'm fine," I grunt. Complaining over a recurring dream is not what I tend to do, and I don't plan to start._

_Zack smirks. "Yeah, I can trust one of your 'I'm fines' from here to that rug!" he declares, pointing to the rug upon which my lower right wing is limply lying._

_"Your confidence in me is overwhelming," I answer in sarcasm. Slowly I maneuver into a sitting position on the bed. I will not be resuming my slumber for a while. That ridiculous dream has left me wide awake._

_"Oh, I trust ya on just about everything," Zack says as he saunters over and plops down beside me, "except your 'I'm fines'!"_

_He yawns again, this time with more ferocity. "Man!" he mumbles when it stops. "Almost dislocated my jaw."_

_I just shake my head. "You should go back to bed," I tell him._

_"I will!" he assures me. "After we talk."_

_"There's nothing to talk about."_

_Though even as I'm speaking, I know this line of conversation is pointless. Somehow he will manage to extract the truth of this preposterous dream, whether I want to discuss it with him or not. I see very little meaning in speaking about such a thing. It isn't as if that will change what is. Though at times people do re-experience actual memories in their dreams, there is no way that this could be something such as that._

_He watches me, his expression sobering. "Were you dreaming about . . . your death again?" he asks, his tone quiet._

_"No." I'm certain my annoyance is being written on my features. "It was a dream of something that never could have happened."_

_Zack blinks. "Sounds weird already!" he declares._

_"It is." I pause, running a hand over my face._

_". . . I see a woman, maybe in her early twenties. It's night, and she's running to the Dark Depths, carrying something in her arms. She pleads for it not to make a sound and alert some unknown presence of where they are. Then a small child looks up at her and I see that he is myself."_

_Zack gives a low whistle. "That's a puzzle," he agrees. "And this lady doesn't look like your mother?"_

_"No. She seemed to be a scientist." I frown. "I've had the dream before, but this is the first time I've seen what she was holding."_

_This interests Zack a great deal. "How long have you been having it?" he inquires, leaning forward._

_I shrug. "Off and on for several years," I answer. "I don't think I ever had it before my death." I give him a bored look. "And I don't think that the shock of dying brought a long-buried memory to the forefront of my mind. Nothing such as that could have ever happened. I lived in peace with my parents until their deaths."_

_Zack slowly nods. "Where did you live, anyway?" he asks. I rarely talk about my childhood, and it doesn't surprise me that he is curious. Zack is the sort of person who likes visiting places where his friends grew up. You have said that it is probably due to sentimentality, and I don't doubt that's a part of it. The fact that it is one of Zack's traits is not a secret._

_I lean back. "In an area of Hollow Bastion that used to be well-to-do," I say. "It was destroyed in the Heartless attack." I've never been back since, except once, during the year when no one recognized me. I had gone out of a morbid desire to see exactly what the damage had been. At the time, I had been entertaining vague thoughts of moving back into it since no one knew me. But when I had seen the state of it, and of the surrounding neighborhood, I abandoned all such ideas. Moving into such a building would have been disastrous._

_Zack frowns. "Must've been awful, to see it like that," he remarks._

_I shake my head. "I'm not a sentimental person. You know that."_

_  
"But still," Zack protests, "your house . . . !" He gestures. "You must've had a lot of good memories there."_

_"And I still have them," I answer. "The house being decimated doesn't change that." Now I begin to ease my body under the covers. It's late and I want to try sleeping again._

_Zack understands. He begins to get up, yawning once more. "That is still really weird about that dream," he says. "Especially the fact that it's recurring! It's gotta mean something."_

_"Cloud would make some sarcastic comment about its origins laying in the snack he had before bed."_

_Zack smirks. "Yep." He sobers. "But what about you, Seph? What do you think it means?"_

_I sink into the pillow. "I don't know. At this point in the night, I don't care." _

_"Okay. Night, Seph." Zack heads for the door, giving me a wave as he goes._

_"Goodnight."_

_It's true that the exhaustion is sweeping over me and that is my main reason for wanting to be left alone now. But also, I don't want to think about the dream and its foolishness. The fact that I was added to its contents must be some strange coincidence._

_Or is that even more ludicrous? What if I did have some odd experience as a child, and my parents never wanted to tell me about it? I could have blocked it from my mind._

_Bah. I can't figure it out._

Again the green eyes opened, taking in the room that was becoming all too familiar. Everything was the same, including the fact that he was alone. And that was perfectly alright with him. Who knew how long it now was to the experiment---two hours, two minutes. . . . Any time would be too soon. But at least he could be alone for now.

The dreams had chronicled an actual experience. It would only be inane obstinance to deny it. Did that mean the woman running with him actually was his biological mother? What kind of a person had she been? She had given her life for him, if Hojo was to be believed. But why on earth would she have married such a creature? It was impossible to imagine Hojo ever being different. Even if he had not always been fanatical or insane, there must have been hints.

Maybe he had forced her into it, exercising his strength and authority over her. Maybe he had even threatened someone she cared about. That would be just like him. Maybe she had married him out of fear.

He clenched his fists. Had his life been bought with bloodshed? Would he not exist if someone had not died to seal that marriage? He could not know that, though it seemed plausible---especially after the knowledge of what had been done to his uncle. And would he be alive now if that woman, his biological mother, had not sacrificed her own existence?

Hojo would not stop at anything. That was all too obvious now; as if Sephiroth should not have realized it long ago. But to use his own wife and son in his experiments! Sephiroth had never imagined him as having a family. It had seemed too preposterous. Now Sephiroth was being forced to acknowledge the truth. If it was Hojo's word alone, he never would. But the old photograph could not have been easily faked. And adding his dream, when he had not consciously recalled seeing the brown-haired woman prior to viewing that picture, made it all fit too well.

And it was causing other doubts to begin creeping into his mind. Had his father actually died in battle, as he had believed? Or had Hojo been responsible for that as well, deciding that the man was of no further use? And his mother, ill for so long. . . . Could she have been slowly poisoned?

These thoughts were too horrifying to bear. How could he ever stand to think of their deaths as being preventable, if he had only known, if Hojo had not been able to torment them? He turned his head to the side, as if by so doing he was displaying his rejection of the idea.

His wings stiffened as the door opened. Determined footsteps began the journey across the big room, too light to be a man's. Besides, he could hear the high heels clicking on the marble. As he turned to look, Hojo's fellow mad scientist came into view. The green eyes narrowed. He detested her almost as much as he did Hojo. She was more detached than Hojo, possibly because she was not related to him (or was she? In this anomalous situation, who could say?), but her businesslike, scientific approach was still annoying. Especially when it pertained to him.

She adjusted her glasses, looking him up and down. "Well, Sephiroth, I would say that you are ready for the next stage," she remarked, a cool smirk flashing over her features. She shared her merciless traits with Hojo. While he would probably be delighted and amused if anyone begged for kindness---which Sephiroth most certainly would not---she would cross her arms and observe, commenting on how far they had fallen. Her entire manner and dress spoke of her no-nonsense personality, from her crisp white coat to her bobbed blonde hair.

He glowered at her the same way he had Hojo. As before, speaking would not avail him anything. Part of him wanted to know what the "next stage" would entail, but it was not likely that he would be told. And as soon as he was released to be taken to the operating room, he would try again to get away. If he could only get out of this prison, he would be able to teleport home.

"I still see that defiance in your eyes," she smiled. "You always were that way."

Now his eyes widened. She also knew him from the past?

"You even told Dr. Hojo that you hated him," she said, "at the tender age of two years."

And that opinion had not changed at all. He brought his lower wings up, not wanting them to be trampled on by the thugs who were approaching the room. And they needed to be ready for attack. If the henchmen were coming, that meant he would be released soon. And he would only have one chance.

"Dr. Hojo and I work independently, but at times we share our research," she told him. "Your case has always been one which has captured both our interests. I was with him and your mother, Lucrecia Crescent, during the time your early progress was being monitored."

That did not impress him. But he had to wonder what else she might know.

If she was planning to say more, she changed her mind as the thugs lumbered in. One cracked his knuckles as they walked to where Sephiroth was manacled. Another gave a sick smirk. The blood-thirst in all of their eyes was all too apparent.

He regarded them in disgust. Little more than street punks. He had delivered injuries to a good many of them during his stay, for which they were always furious. The only reason why they managed to triumph over him was because there were more of them and they were fighting unfairly. Though Sephiroth's growing weakness from the experimentation never helped, either. And he was not allowed to eat a great deal. His continuing endurance was one of the aspects that fascinated Hojo so much.

"Good," the woman said now, looking over the undesirable men, "you're on time. Get him loose." She nodded towards Sephiroth. Of course, she would not dare to set him free by herself. He would be able to overpower her. She would just observe.

"Right, boss," said the thug in the lead. He reached up, unlocking the handcuff around Sephiroth's right wrist. The arm dropped limply to his side, stinging as the circulation began to return. As the left arm also fell, the urge became great to rub the hand over his right arm. But his left arm was just beginning to awaken as well. Both felt extremely numb. They had better be strong enough that he could begin his assault in a moment.

Now they were undoing the restraints around his ankles. Two thugs grabbed for his upper arms with their calloused paws.

"Okay," said one. "Let's move it."

In an instant Sephiroth spread his wings, striking both of the bullies hard in their mid-sections. They cried out, stumbling back as they slammed into their comrades. Not expecting the sudden added weight, those men yelped as well, flailing as they struggled to keep their balance.

Sephiroth did not waste any time. He flapped his wings with ferocity, the motion lifting him into the air. Higher, higher . . . until he was by the ceiling many feet above the floor. The henchmen cried out in frustration and anger, staring up at him from where they were sprawled on their backs. The female scientist, who had stepped aside to avoid the chaos, was regarding him with crossed arms and an unreadable expression.

Maybe she was wondering what he planned to do with himself now. He could fly around the ceiling all he wanted, and he could even escape the room and go into the corridor beyond, but then what? It was not likely that he would be able to get away altogether. He did not even know where any doors leading outside were located. Nor had he seen any windows. And eventually, he would grow exhausted and have to come down.

He might fail. As logic stood, he probably would without a doubt. But he was going to try. He was going to do everything he could to get out of this infernal pit.

* * *

_I'm running through one of the forest areas away from the city. I know why, too---I'm looking for Seph. I know I've gotta find him, and fast; that it's critical to his well-being to get to him. So I go flying over logs and shrubs and get smacked in the face by leafy tree branches, but I keep going. Seph is what's important._

I scream for him, my voice echoing all over the woods, but I only get some small animals to answer me. They make their little animal sounds, scolding me for disturbing them, and I can feel their eyes watching me as I keep running. This urgency is just getting stronger. Seph's hurting. I know he's hurting! I just don't know why.

_Did he go out flying and have trouble with his wing again? Did he have to land and ended up really hurt? Or what if some of those creeps even hurt him? We don't know where Hojo went now. All we know is that he's left the castle in Hollow Bastion. But he's somewhere. He's always somewhere, and he never stops doing awful things to Seph!_

_I know this isn't like me, and I'm worried for me to feel this way, but I think I can honestly say I hate that guy. I just hate him! I wanna do something horrible to him, break him into a million pieces, because of the stuff he's done. But I've gotta control myself. The last thing I ever want to do is to give in to hatred the way poor Seph did when he lost himself._

_I bust free of the leafy stuff by running into a clearing. From here I can see the small pool that's supposed to grant wishes. The water looks dark, since it's night and all, and the starlight's reflecting off the surface. And just to the side of it is Seph._

_I just stop and stare at him for a minute. He's not facing me; he's gazing up into the sky. The stars are shining down on his wings and his hair, too, making them stand out all the more. It's almost . . . I don't know, ethereal or something. Or maybe surreal's a better word._

_I snap out of it, moving closer to him. "Seph?" I call, reaching to grab his shoulder. He's not wearing his coat for some reason, and I touch his cool skin._

_He turns, and I can't keep from gasping in horror. The look in his eyes . . . ! I can hardly stand it. He's suffering, the misery bigger than any other feelings I see there. I'm not even sure he really sees me. It's like he's . . . he's looking through me or something._

_I grab both of his shoulders. "Seph!" I can feel him getting stiff. He doesn't like being touched._

_But then his eyes kinda flicker, and I can see he does know me. He's staring at me like he can't believe I'm real. "Zack . . ." He reaches out, grabbing at me, and then just pulls me close like I'm his lifeline. He's shaking, his wings twitching and brushing against me._

_Then I hug him back, clutching at him like I don't want to let go. Seph's never done this before. What's wrong? What happened to him?! I just hold him tight, feeling my eyes getting prickly._

_"Seph . . . oh Seph . . . what happened to you?!" But I don't really expect him to answer._

_He doesn't. He just keeps clinging to me, broken._

_And I can't not cry._

"Zack! Zack, wake up."

Cloud stared at his friend, worry and anxiety crossing over his features. He was trying to drive the Jeep over as much of the bumpy terrain that he could. They had been this way before, but not down the path being taken now. Soon he would have to stop the vehicle and they would get out to look around. Zack, unable to drive with his leg, had agonized in the passenger seat until at last he had fallen into an equally-fitful slumber.

Zack had barely slept the last week, of course. How could he be expected to even know how to do so, when Sephiroth had gone missing? Cloud was worried too, even though he tried not to show it. If Zack had to think about comforting him, in addition to everything else, it might be too much for him to handle.

Now Cloud pulled on the brake, bringing the Jeep to a halt. Zack was crying out for "Seph" in his sleep, turning his head to the side. The anguished tones were more than Cloud could bear. He half-turned, reaching across the seat to grab Zack's shoulder.

"Wake up!" he exclaimed again, giving Zack a firm shake.

Zack started, his lavender eyes flying open. He looked over at Cloud, as if trying to comprehend his presence. He was still half in his dream. Seph . . . where was Seph? Seph had been hanging onto him, not wanting to let go, _afraid_ to let go. . . . And Zack had not intended to let go.

But they still had not found him. It had been a week, and there had not even been any evidence of what could have happened. He was just _gone_, like he had vanished into thin air.

Zack leaned forward in the seat, determination mixing with his panic. "We have to find Seph!" he burst out. The horrible devastation in his dream could not come to pass. They had to find him before he ended up like that.

Cloud gripped at the steering wheel with his other hand, even though they had stopped. "We will," he said, his voice quiet. He wanted to offer reassurance to Zack, but his words sounded so hollow. Where else could they look? It was getting so discouraging, when every location was a dead end. If they could even just find _something_, some indication of what had gone wrong . . . !

Zack was not listening. He was staring in shock at the area they were in. "Hey, that pool is around here!" he cried. Fumbling with the safety belt, he threw it aside and grabbed a flashlight as he climbed out of the car. Would they find Seph there, like in his dream? Would they be able to get him away from whatever horrible thing he was going through? Or would there be nothing again?

Cloud blinked. "Pool?" he frowned. Then he noticed something. "Hey, take your cane!" he yelled, snatching up the crutch and waving it at Zack.

Zack turned, grabbing it, before beginning to limp ahead into the trees. There was no time to explain. Cloud would just have to come and see for himself. Zack had to get in there, to see if Seph was there. If Seph was hurt, then they could not waste another moment.

Cloud shook his head, leaping out of the Jeep and following his friend into the dense woods. In spite of Zack's injury, he was already far ahead. Cloud clicked on his flashlight, hurrying after him.

When he burst into the clearing a moment later, Zack was staring around the area, the hand on his cane vaguely trembling. The pool was to his left, the stars and moon's reflections rippling ever so slowly on the surface. At Zack's feet were several blue feathers. He had definitely noticed them. Now he was searching in desperation for something else, for some_one_ else.

"Seph!" he screamed.

His voice echoed. The spot was desolate.

Cloud bent down, lifting up one of the feathers. There was blood on its base. And when he followed the direction of the blue growths with his eyes, it looked as though a body had been dragged through the grass. The trail stopped before the brush was gained.

"Somebody's taken him," he said, his voice low. "He's not here." The way the grass patterns went, Sephiroth had been on his back, his upper torso raised off the ground. If he had been on his stomach, and there were indications of where his arms had been in the grass, then maybe it could be decided that he had dragged himself after being hurt. But that was not the case.

Zack had fallen silent. He knew what Cloud said was the truth. And the pieces were starting to fall into place.

"A clone was here," he said. "That's how come the marks just stop. They teleported out. Hojo took Seph."

A chill ran up Cloud's spine, and not from the late winter weather. He had never heard that dark tone from Zack.

He rose, walking around to look Zack in the eyes. The heartache he could see was a spear to his own heart. And it was driven deeper by the presence of something else, something dark that Zack was struggling to control. To see the sheer hatred in Zack's eyes frightened Cloud. Zack had always been the strong one, the one who comforted Cloud and Sephiroth and tried to steer them right when they went astray. But even Zack had his breaking point. After everything Hojo had done, he could not take it any longer.

Again Cloud felt at a loss. What could he say? What could he do to help Zack over this barrier?

He reached out, gripping Zack's shoulder. "We're going to find him," he said. Hopefully he sounded more sure of it than he was.

Zack started, as if coming back to himself. Relief flooded his eyes for a brief moment. Cloud had brought him out of the hateful reverie he had been sinking into. And looking into Cloud's concerned blue eyes, he knew what was happening. But of course he would; Cloud had fought against his own darkness for years.

Zack reached up, grasping Cloud's hand. "Yeah," he agreed, "we will. We have to." A weak smile came over his features.

Cloud nodded. The hatred was not gone, but he had made Zack focus. At least for now.

Once they found Hojo, Cloud was not sure he would be able to control his own feelings, let alone to help Zack bridle his.


	3. Stop the Pain

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help! Some of the disturbing stuff told to Sephiroth in the last scene was inspired by an amazing and very dark KH fic called **_**There Wasn't.**_** And this fic will now branch into telling two stories: Sephiroth's torment in the present and Zack and Cloud trying to save him, and what happened in the past to the KH Lucrecia and how that affected Sephiroth then.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_**Key Blade: The other side**_

_**31 Days: Dying by installments**_

_"You are cleared to enter, Ms. Crescent."_

_The brown-haired young woman looked up in relief as her identification card was passed back to her through the slot in the glass._

_"Thank you," she said, managing a smile as she retrieved the card and fumbled to place it back in her wallet._

_The middle-aged security guard gave a slight smile as well. "I don't think you have to worry, honey," she said. "Your marks on the application test were the highest of anyone's this year. Dr. Hojo was very impressed."_

_"Hopefully impressed enough to give me that internship!" said the brunet. She spoke in a bright tone, but her smile was now slightly wry._

_"Dr. Hojo only conducts personal interviews when he's seriously considering the applicant for a job on his research team." The guard pressed a button, activating the heavy doors just ahead of them. A well-lit, tiled corridor came into view. "His office is to the right, at the end of the hall. You can't miss it."_

_"Well, here goes everything." With a little wave, the green-eyed intern-hopeful marched up the path and through the doors. They closed loudly behind her. There was no turning back from here._

_Not that she would want to turn back, despite her increasing nervousness. This was her moment, her chance to prove herself._

_Ever since she had been a child, Lucrecia Crescent had dreamed of becoming a scientist. Radiant Garden was always in need of new and brilliant minds. Her ultimate goal was to work with Ansem the Wise. But at the moment his research laboratory was not open for internship. And she could not begin right at the top, anyway._

_Or so she had thought._

_When her parents had learned that one of Ansem's most respected rivals, Dr. Hojo, was accepting applications, they had encouraged Lucrecia to apply. She had been reluctant at first, but then had agreed to try, even though she had been certain it was fruitless. Dr. Hojo's expectations were very lofty, and she had never once imagined that she would emerge his favored choice for an assistant. It was both exciting and daunting._

_Here was the office now--a wooden door with frosted glass at the top and lettering that bore the man's name in capital letters. Should she just go in or should she knock? If it opened into an outer office with a secretary, walking in would not be a problem. But if it led directly to Dr. Hojo's inner office, then it would be better to knock._

_Well, she wanted to make the best impression. She raised a hand, giving a soft but firm rap.  
_

_"Come in," purred a voice from inside._

_Lucrecia took a deep breath. Then she hoisted the weighty door open and slipped through it._

_The cotton in her throat began to increase. She was standing in a sparsely furnished room, the only decor being the framed degrees on the wall above the no-nonsense desk. Its sole contents were a nameplate in front, a telephone to the left, a lamp to the right, and several file folders in the middle. A dark-haired man in a white coat was standing up and coming around the desk to where she was standing. Dr. Hojo, of course._

_"Ah, welcome, Ms. Crescent," he smiled._

_She blinked in surprise. "Oh . . . um, you know my name, Doctor?" she stammered. Mentally she kicked herself. She must sound so foolish! That had not come out as she had wanted it to at all._

_She attempted to start again. "W-what I meant was, I didn't know you'd seen me before, and . . ."_

_Dr. Hojo gave an amused smirk. "You are correct, Ms. Crescent," he said. "But yours was the only appointment I scheduled for today." He held out his hand._

_She took it, struggling to bite back the nervous giggle that was threatening to burst forth. This was not a time to be silly, even though she would not mean that the way it would sound, either. She had to show him that she was as level-headed and logical as he might have gathered from her application and the test._

_"Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me," she said as they shook hands. Thank goodness she had not stuttered this time._

_"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Crescent," Dr. Hojo said. "I've read your thesis on the future of science in Radiant Garden and how it should be applied. It was most enlightening. Just what I would expect after your studious application and your high marks on the test._

_"Now, I have a few questions for you. But I have little doubt that you will be very worthwhile here. Someday what we are doing will be in the history books. Such an honor you would have, to be a part of that."_

_"Yes, Doctor," she answered, completely composed now. "Of course what I want most is to better our world."_

_"Naturally. Isn't that what we all strive towards?"_

_He turned, walking back to the desk. "Do be seated," he said with an offhand gesture._

_Lucrecia nodded, crossing to a chair in front of the desk. "Thank you, Doctor," she said. Sitting down, she placed her purse on her lap. The doctor really sounded as though he had already made up his mind about her. If that was so, what could he want to ask her now? Maybe it was some final test she needed to pass, but which he believed she would._

_"How much hands-on experience have you had in experimentation?"_

_She blinked. What an odd question. "What kind of experimentation, Doctor?" she inquired._

_A shrug. "Any kind," Dr. Hojo said, adding, "with live subjects."_

_She held her position, considering her reply. She had heard something about Dr. Hojo's previous assistant having quit because of not being able to handle the research. Was that why he was asking? Of course he would not want a repeat of something like that. It must have been an immense inconvenience and hindrance._

_"We used rats and mice a lot," she reported. "And sometimes rabbits."_

_"And what do you think of that?" Dr. Hojo laced his fingers. "I hope you don't have any foolish sentimental notions."_

_Yes, that had to be why he was continuing this line of questioning. Nothing more. She began to relax. What on earth had she thought he meant?_

_"I don't think of myself as sentimental," she said. "I'd rather the lab animals didn't have to be hurt or killed, but I'm willing to do whatever is necessary."_

_Dr. Hojo's lips pulled back in a smile. "Yes," he mused, "I think you are. Good. This work is not for the squeamish._

_"Well. That was my last concern, Ms. Crescent," he said as he arose. "I expect you to arrive tomorrow at six in the morning, sharp. Tardiness is frowned upon."_

_She ignored the way his smile had begun to make her stomach twist. And as quickly as the feeling had come, it had fled by his next words. She stood as well, a mixture of amazement and awe sweeping over her. He had accepted her internship. That was what she had longed for and wanted. She had worried that she would have a difficult time finding somewhere to work. Instead her dream was coming true._

_"I'll be here, Doctor," she said, proud of herself for not falling back to stammering. "Is there . . . anything I'll need to bring?"_

_He led her to the door. "If you have your reports on the experiments you've done, I would like to see them," he said._

_Again she was surprised. "O-of course," she said, her hand on the knob. "I'll bring them tomorrow." She shifted, embarrassed. "But they're not really much. I mean . . . I'm sure you've conducted far more exciting tests. . . ."_

_He smirked. "Perhaps. But I would like to see them anyway._

_"Good day, Ms. Crescent."_

_She nodded. "Good day."_

_Pushing open the door, she stepped out and turned to go back the way she had come a few scant moments earlier. Suddenly everything was different. If he was impressed by her work, she would have a well-paying job for hopefully a good many years. And in that time, there was no telling what exciting scientific discoveries might be made. She would learn from one of Radiant Garden's best scientists._

_So why was it that she still had a nagging feeling that something was not right?_

_Was it because he wanted to see her experiment reports? That was strange, but he had a right to look them over if he felt like it. He likely just wanted to learn all he could about her and her methods. It was nothing to worry about; she was just being paranoid. Her father would tell her the same thing. He and her mother were both so proud of her for coming as far as she had. They would be ecstatic to hear how the appointment had gone._

_By the time she reached the end of the corridor and passed through the exit, all such concerns had fled her mind._

* * *

His head was throbbing. So were his wings.

And he was laying on something cold and hard. He was on his back. That might account for some of the pain in his wings.

Mostly it was because of the gas that had downed him.

He had known escape was too good to be true. But he had insisted on pursuing it anyway. He had flown from room to room , desperate for a window, for some link to the outside world. And eventually he had been locked inside a particularly spacious chamber. The only way out would have been through the ventilation system, and he never could have gotten through the grate. Then had come the swift and cruel realization that once again there was not any freedom. To add insult to injury, they had turned on some kind of knock-out gas and piped it into the room. He could still smell the wretched fumes in his nostrils. A weak cough rippled from his throat.

Of course he was restrained again. He could feel the manacles binding his wrists and ankles. And there were vague voices talking above him, likely Hojo and Portman. Were they discussing what to do to him next? It was just the sort of topic in which they would delight. It was so frustrating that he could not hear them through the fog over his senses! Was this a lingering effect of the gas? Or had they drugged him? It would be dangerous, to inject him with something shortly after gassing him unconscious.

Not that either of them would care. They would probably be fascinated by the idea of monitoring the effects on him.

What were they doing? Portman had walked across the floor, and it sounded like Hojo was pulling a switch. Some buzzing noise was beginning to reverberate through the room. The slab was vibrating.

And then the snapping, scouring fire was rushing into his veins. He was being electrocuted. His eyes widened as he gritted his teeth, holding back a cry. Hojo had done this to him before, but not this strong. And in the past it had stopped after several seconds.

This time it was not stopping.

Still he did not scream, clenching his fists against the anguish. It had to stop soon. He would fall unconscious if it did not. And if that happened, there was the danger of his heart stopping. Not that it would. He would never give them the satisfaction of knowing they had defeated him in any way. And he would not die and leave his friends behind. He would not!

The power was cut. His torso, which he had arched off the slab in a desperate and pain-filled measure to not conduct even more electricity, dropped back to the hard metal surface. He breathed heavily, staring up at the ceiling high above him without actually seeing it.

Was this only the beginning? Would it continue until Hojo enacted the unspeakable experiments he had alluded to several hours ago? No, that could not happen. He would not be left to suffer such a fate, would he? Wouldn't his superiors prevent such a thing?

Unless he was of no more use to them. What if they had decided that they no longer wanted him to be bound to Cloud? What if they had given up on him? And if they had, did that mean that God had, as well? It was so hard to feel in this place what he had felt when he had been comforted in the snow. But he had to admit, after knowing then that he had not been rejected or abandoned, it was difficult to grasp the thought that maybe this time he had been.

No, that was not true. He would cling to something else as well as to his pride. He would come through this. Either he would escape, or Zack and Cloud would find him. And Hojo and Portman would not be allowed to harm them. That would never be allowed!

The electricity rushed back into his body. This time they had increased the wattage.

His eyes widened in anguish. There was no release.

* * *

It was heart-breaking to watch Zack suffer.

Since finding the site where Sephiroth had been dragged away, Zack had ordered another, more thorough search of the castle. The army had taken apart every possible closed tunnel, opened all rooms--both visible and hidden--and had scoured every escape route. There was no indication that anyone had been back since the battle that had ended with Hojo's flight.

Zack had then directed the army to assist in searching in all other possible locations at Hollow Bastion as well. But it was always the same result. There was no sign of Sephiroth or Hojo.

More and more, Zack was slipping into agonized despair. To know Sephiroth was out there, somewhere, as the prisoner of Hojo was too much to handle when he did not know where to go to find his dear friend. He was running out of ideas.

Cloud was too, when he thought about it. He was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of hot chocolate. It was weird. It felt wrong to be drinking something like that when Sephiroth was not with them. Zack had fixed the beverage for all of them many times during the winter. And then they would hang out in the living room while Zack made up silly, cheesy stories.

Zack had only made up hot chocolate now because he had said that he and Cloud needed something to give them strength. _"Like that old commercial where the kid drinks it and then can pick up the Christmas tree that fell over,"_ he had said with a weak grin. But his heart had not been in it.

The rattle of dishes sent Cloud looking over his shoulder. Zack had poured the rest of the hot chocolate into a container, sealed it, and placed it in the fridge. Now he was washing the kettle.

Cloud ran his tongue over his lips. "Zack . . ." But he trailed off. There was nothing he knew to say. _"Don't do this to yourself"_ had been used in every possible variation. And what a hypocrite he was; Cloud was torturing himself as well. He could not stand that he was helpless again, while his friends were in misery. He could not help Zack, and he could not help Sephiroth, either.

It was feelings such as that which had led to his anger in the past. He could feel it simmering in his heart right now. But he had to control it. Especially when Zack himself was battling hatred.

". . . What now?" Zack said at last, his voice strained. "We've been all over the city, and out of it, too! Seph's nowhere around."

Cloud frowned, staring into the mug. "I guess we could check on the other part of the world," he said at last. "You know . . . where those outcasts live who say they've fallen into ruin. I mean . . . I know it's not like Hojo would go there, but who knows. Maybe someone's seen him."

Zack froze. "You know, I sent some of the army down there while we finished looking up here," he said, "but we should head down ourselves. What if Iezon knows something?!" He turned off the water, setting the kettle on the counter as he whirled to face Cloud. For the first time in several days, his eyes were alight with excitement and hope.

Cloud's own eyes widened. "You mean because of who he really is?"

Zack gave an enthusiastic nod. "Maybe he'd know where mad scientists would hang out or something!" He grabbed up his cane. "Come on, old pal, let's pack up and go on a little road trip!" He limped out of the kitchen, going much faster than he probably should.

Suddenly Cloud's appetite was back. He downed the rest of the now-lukewarm chocolate before standing. He did not like to get his hopes too high, but it was just possible that this was the break they needed.

"Wait up!" he called, chasing after Zack.

* * *

It was so surreal, to find a soft mattress underneath his aching form. He did not remember losing consciousness. But he must have, because he certainly did not recall being taken here. The more he awoke, the more comfortable the cot became. He had been laid on his side, the wings hanging over the edge to what felt like a rug on the cold floor. He burrowed against the pillow. He had not been allowed to lay down on something relatively soft since he had been taken. And the scientists would never show him mercy. How had he gotten here?

Green eyes cracked open to take in the blurring scene. There were metal bars ahead of him. He was in one of the small cells at the back of a laboratory. Hojo had mentioned that he kept them for his experiments at times. But certainly the monsters he created would not be granted beds.

"You're awake."

A chill ran down his spine. That was his own voice speaking, albeit more tired and sad. He rose half off the bed, his gaze darting across all in his line of vision. There it was, walking over to the cell--a clone. A very weary and burdened clone. The eyes were sunken, as if sleep always evaded him and he had forced himself to adapt. His lips were drooping in a permanent melancholy expression. And his skin was raw and red. What had happened to him? Would Sephiroth himself look like that before this was over? He gripped a handful of pillow.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I am clone forty-five," was the answer. "I was one of the first clones, and unlike many of my brothers, I survived the attack on the castle in Hollow Bastion. White Coat brought us here."

Sephiroth frowned. "You aren't the one who fought me," he said.

"No, I'm not. And you should lay still. Your injuries were serious. You're still mending."

Sephiroth sank back against the mattress. "You don't look well," he observed.

45 shrugged. "Hojo seems to have abandoned his ideas of overthrowing the government. At any rate, we can't use our powers in here, and he has been experimenting on us."

That should not be a surprise. But Sephiroth felt a wave of indignant anger. Hojo had created so many clones for his use in an army, and now he was deciding that they should be test subjects instead? His cruelty knew no boundaries.

"How did I get here?" Sephiroth asked at last.

"I brought you," 45 said. "I told White Coat that it would be destructive to what was left of your health if you were chained to the wall again. And then he wouldn't be able to use you in as many experiments. It was the only way I could get him to agree."

Sephiroth grunted. Well, he should be grateful for the respite, no matter how brief.

"You said my injuries were serious," he frowned. "How are they being healed?"

45 hesitated. "White Coat is testing the power of hearts for many things," he said, "including healing."

Sephiroth's eyes widened. "What has he done?" he demanded, his voice steady and insistent.

". . . Several of my brothers gave their lives for the experiment," 45 said, a trace of sorrow coming into his voice.

Again the bile began to rise in Sephiroth's throat. ". . . Then they're Heartless now?" he deduced.

45 nodded. "Yes." He paused. "And yet they are not completely mindless. They despise White Coat. They hide in the shadows, biding their time until they repay him for what he has done."

Sephiroth leaned further into the mattress. So he was recovering because of the clones' hearts that had been used in the medicine. And Hojo would not stop with the clones. Hojo would eventually try to do the same to him, just as he had threatened.

And deep in his heart, he could not deny that his outrage was mixing with a twinge of fear.


	4. Assimilate Life

**Notes: Thanks to Kaze and Lisa for plot help!**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_**31 Days: We both know you're worth so much more**_

_**Key Blade: Clear head**_

_Working for Dr. Hojo was proving to be a worthwhile experience. He paid well, and Lucrecia was learning so much more about science that she had ever imagined. He had so many intriguing insights that she had attempted to file them away in her mind for further use. When she had free time, she scribbled them down as notes in her journal. Some day she might need to refer to them for her own research._

_But there was also something wrong with the man. She really only saw hints of it now and then, but it was obvious. There would be moments when he was describing their latest experiment, and unbridled delight would slip into his voice when speaking of their test subject and what it would undergo. A vague shiver would go up her spine at those times, but then she would push aside her concerns. He was probably only anxious for the results of the experimenting and the good it could bring about, she had decided._

_She had not told her parents about those moments. They would probably just tell her it was her imagination--which she knew it was not--or that she should be on her guard around him--which she was. There was no need for it, but it was good to be cautious._

_She had been working with him for close to three months when he approached her about a new project._

_"So far, we have only been dealing with the preliminary necessities, Dr. Crescent," he said, gesturing at the vials and equipment in the laboratory. "Everything we have been doing has been leading to one purpose."_

_She blinked in confusion, looking at him. "What do you mean, Doctor?" she asked._

_A wicked smile began to play on his features. "Come with me," he said. "I believe you are strong enough to handle this now." With that he turned, walking out of the room. Confused, she set down her clipboard and followed._

_Their footsteps echoed down the tiled, white halls before Dr. Hojo at last turned a corner and led her through one final corridor to a lone door. He turned the knob, stepping into another laboratory. As he switched on the light, the entire room was swiftly bathed in the bright glow. Several slabs were in the middle of the floor, each one covered. Crossing to the first one, Dr. Hojo pulled back the sheet._

_Lucrecia could not help the gasp of surprise and horror at the sight. It was a human man laying on the slab, the eyes closed and the skin flushed. A stitched incision in the chest was very visible. What was this? Was he . . . dead? What had happened?_

_Something inside her had stiffened and gone cold. ". . . Doctor?" she said at last._

_"Human experimentation, my dear Dr. Crescent," Dr. Hojo said, his voice filled with pride. "This is the future of science."_

_Lucrecia stepped closer. Now she could see that the chest was rising and falling, but in an erratic manner. "Doctor, human experimentation is illegal in Radiant Garden," she exclaimed. Was this the real reason the previous assistant had left? Suddenly the questions she had been asked in her interview made sense. He had wondered how she would react to this, and he had thought that if she accepted animal experimentation she would not have any problem with the next level._

_"Oh, our subjects have agreed to be guinea pigs, of course," Dr. Hojo said. "Tell me, Dr. Crescent, is there a better way to study the human body than to experiment on the human body itself? There is only so much we can learn from lab rats." He paused. "And as for it being illegal, surely you don't believe I am the only one to have this vision? Ansem himself, and especially his protégés, study this as well. It's only illegal because we are feared for the great knowledge we are uncovering."_

_Lucrecia swallowed hard. Was that true? Was this the dark underbelly of science, and she would not be able to escape it, no matter whom she worked for? The very thought was dizzying._

_"With all due respect, Doctor, this isn't why I became a scientist," she said.  
_

_"Wasn't it to better humanity?" Dr. Hojo smirked. "That is what we are doing, Dr. Crescent. And really, would our subjects be foolish enough to agree to be experimented on if they didn't know the risks? They have made their own decisions. And you must make yours, too."_

_This was so much to take in at once. She had never dreamed that this was what would happen on her journey to being a full-fledged scientist. It was hard to know whether to feel betrayed, alarmed, or fascinated. Surely Dr. Hojo knew what he was doing. And if the subjects had agreed, that was a lot different than experimenting on them without their permission. At least Lucrecia was certain no one would be doing _that.

_But it was still illegal. As far as she knew, it was not only experimenting with unwilling subjects that was included in the law. Human experimentation was forbidden no matter how it was done._

_She looked to the form again. The man did not looked pained, exactly; his expression was unreadable. Yet he seemed stable._

_"What has been done to him?" she asked._

_Again Dr. Hojo's lips twisted in that unsettling smirk. "A very intriguing process that, when perfected, will greatly benefit mankind," he said. "Come, Dr. Crescent. I will explain it to you."_

_Lucrecia's decision in this moment would forever alter not only her own future, but that of many others. For a moment she stood, the conflicting thoughts racing through her mind. In good conscience, she did not know if she could ever fully approve of this. But Dr. Hojo was her superior. She needed to keep an open mind._

_And she could not deny that she was afraid, as well. If she walked out on him, what would he do to her? When she thought of it, she had never heard anything about his last assistant after her departure. Probably she had just left the world of science. But when she recalled Dr. Hojo's almost sadistic delight when describing their past experiments, her stomach began to turn. What if he really would perform human experimentation without the victims' permission?_

_Now she was just getting carried away. She needed to approach this logically. Still, was it good logic to stay, or even to just be willing to hear about the project? Well . . . she owed him that, at least. Then she could make her final decision._

_She gave a single nod. "Alright, Doctor," she said._

_Hojo was obviously pleased. "I'm glad to see that you have a clear head, Dr. Crescent," he said as he walked to the other side of the room._

_Lucrecia followed. She could not help feeling less sure of that fact than he did._

* * *

_There are dark shadows all around me. I know I'm still in Castle Oblivion, but I can barely see the room. I'm stumbling, struggling to find the light switch. All around me are screams--familiar screams--and in every direction I go, they become louder and more pained. I want to open my mouth, to demand for the cruelty to cease and to find out where you and Zack are, but my throat is tight. I cannot give voice to my orders no matter how hard I try._

_Then Hojo's abominable voice joins in. "Such magnificent hearts, aren't they?" he says. "So much can be done with them."_

_More screaming. But abruptly it stops, choked as if blood has rushed into the throats._

_I scream instead, in rage and horror._

Sephiroth's eyes flew open. He was gasping, perspiration streaming down his face. In his hands he gripped the thin sheet, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grasp. He was still in that same cell, the door standing open to reveal the laboratory beyond. He slumped back into the bed, moving a shaking hand to release the sheet and instead brush his bangs out of his face. The voices were still echoing through his mind--the screams just as pronounced and anguished, Hojo's laughter just as cruel, and the sudden cut-off of the cries just as horrible.

"You were dreaming."

He looked to the door. Clone 45 was standing in the doorway, the same sad expression gracing his ruddy features.

"It was only foolishness," Sephiroth returned. "It won't happen."

"But you're afraid it will." 45 spoke in a matter-of-fact voice. "Were you imagining White Coat removing your heart?"

"No." Sephiroth looked away. He did not want to discuss it. It was too horrifying. And he was not the type who was frightened by his dreams, or even paid much heed to them at all. During the time of his captivity, he had been forced to take a close look at the dream of the woman carrying a child. But he would not consider that this latest incubus was a warning of something to come. He would die before he would let Zack and Cloud be tortured like that and turned into Heartless. He would kill Hojo in the most graphic way he could, if that was the only way to stop him--even if it meant he himself would go to Hell as a result.

"All of us have had the dreams," 45 said, walking slowly into the cell. "Everyone wonders who will be next."

Sephiroth gave a deep frown. The clone sounded so resigned to his fate, as if he was not even going to try to stop it. Maybe by now they had tried everything and their hope was long ago spent. But it still bothered Sephiroth. It bothered him greatly that any clone of himself--or anyone at all, clone or not--would be at the point of sad acceptance. He was not willing to accept this. He would fight until his very last breath, and if he was turned into a Heartless, then he would become like the ones 45 had spoken of that were roaming about--waiting for the chance to attack Hojo and bring this madness to an end.

"Everyone wonders, but no one does anything about it," he deduced.

45 watched him, his sunken eyes never changing their expression. "We've tried," he said. "As soon as White Coat began to experiment on us, we began to rebel. If we were all gathered in the same place, he would not stand a chance. He makes sure to keep us all separated from each other."

Sephiroth looked back to him. "And individually you're too weak to fight him?"

"It's the same as it is with you," said 45. "He brings his henchmen with him, and of course we try to fight, but we're overpowered. Then when he's through, we're dragged back to wherever we're kept. This cell is my domain; that is why I'm able to be here with you."

Sephiroth frowned in confusion. "But you said that you'd spoken to Hojo about bringing me here," he said. "And that you then brought me."

A nod. "In exchange for a bit of freedom, I help him with some of the tasks," 45 said. "I'm always hoping to find a way to foil his plans and gather my brothers together. That hasn't come to pass yet. We're only allowed to be with one other captive at any given time."

Sephiroth grunted. "And Hojo isn't afraid that even two could overpower him?"

"When they're both weakened and ill? Not especially." 45 studied him. "You're improving, though. You responded very well to the treatment."

That news only revolted him. He did not want to be sustained by Hojo's abominable experiment. Knowing what was coursing through his veins, and why, was infuriating and demeaning.

"What about you?" he asked instead. "You aren't looking well at all. Haven't you been exposed to this . . . treatment?"

45 shook his head. "It wasn't tried to this extent on anyone but you," he said. "I and my brothers were given the medicine in smaller doses, and once White Coat saw that we responded to it, he focused on developing it to use on you."

And this was all the more outrageous. "Then you and the other clones . . ."

". . . Are failing rapidly," 45 finished. "The other experimentation has made us very ill, especially when White Coat barely tries to restore our health. If we don't all become Heartless, we will still die. But we would rather have that fate than the alternative."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "You said that Hojo wouldn't stand a chance against all of the clones, so they must still be in fairly good health," he remarked.

"Maybe," 45 said. "Even if they are fine today, I couldn't say how they'll be tomorrow."

He gave Sephiroth a concerned look. "And all the conversation is wearing you down," he said. "White Coat gave you enough of the substance to heal your worst injuries, but you're still very weak. The treatment drains your energy as it repairs the damage. You need to rest."

"I'm fine," Sephiroth retorted. How could he possibly rest after hearing these revelations? What they needed to do was plan how to escape. He did not want to run the risk of falling asleep and having another foolish, time-wasting dream.

But his eyes were beginning to ache. He leaned further into the pillows, closing his eyes to rest them. ". . . Do the other clones feel bitter towards me?" he asked.

"Bitter?" 45 repeated in confused surprise.

"Because they were brought into this cold and cruel existence by my DNA," Sephiroth said, "and because Hojo has stopped doing anything to help them in favor of experimenting on me." Not to mention that he was subjecting the clones to a worse fate than death in order to sustain Sephiroth's life.

45 sighed. ". . . Yes, some of them are bitter," he said. "Mostly, however, they recognize that White Coat is our true enemy. You are as much a victim as any of us."

Sephiroth grunted, a wing twitching in acknowledgment.

"You're more spent than you're willing to admit," said 45. "Sleep."

Sephiroth wanted to stay awake. The wing twitched again, from reflex. 45 was speaking from far away now, through a dense fog that had settled over his ears. Suddenly he was so exhausted, as if he had been drugged. Could what he had been injected with be having this effect on him? Or was he really this tired on his own?

High above them, through a one-way window of glass, Hojo and Portman were observing.

Hojo smirked, crossing his arms. "Look how weary and worn out he is," he said. "I wonder what Clone Forty-Five told him."

"Most likely the dark secrets of his recovery," Portman said.

Hojo nodded, looking thoughtful. "Such an intriguing process it has been," he mused. "Who would have imagined a few years ago that the study of hearts could result in such a powerful medicine?"

Now Portman frowned. "Is it true that you are planning to do the same thing to your son that you did with the clones?" she asked.

Hojo looked to her. "Oh, certainly not for a while," he said. "It can only be done once. I must plan it very carefully." His eyes glittered in anticipation. "Mostly with him, I simply want to see what his Heartless and Nobody forms would be like. I have this feeling that he, like Ansem's apprentice, would be strong-willed enough to keep human forms for both. But would he remain as good as he is? Or would he be tainted by the experience? And what about his caring for his precious friends? There is so much to be learned."

"What a waste," Portman said. "Once it's done, it can't be reversed, as you yourself have just said. It's so much better to experiment on him when he is his true self."

Again the cruel smirk. "Ah, but my dear Portman, that is also part of the experiment," Hojo declared. "I will see if it's possible to reunite Heartless and Nobody."

"And if not?" Portman looked through the glass at Sephiroth's sleeping form. "Why not practice on the clones first? I haven't been allowed yet to even accomplish my experimentation on the subject."

Hojo shrugged. "Of course, I plan to test the clones first, if I can ever contain their Heartless and Nobody forms," he said. "They have been hiding in the shadows and I have not had the opportunity to entice them out."

"What a foolish man you are," Portman said. "They are average Heartless, yet they still have a deep-rooted loathing for you. When they're hungry, it's you whom they will come for. You have no concept of what you are dealing with."

A mad grin spread across Hojo's features. "I'm not adverse to experimenting on myself," he said.

Portman raised an eyebrow. "And if you became Heartless and Nobody, would you expect me to attempt restoring you?"

"I wouldn't expect anything," Hojo answered. "After all, we don't trust anyone but ourselves, do we?"

"No," Portman agreed, continuing to study Sephiroth and 45 in the cell below, "we really don't."

"Then there isn't a concern, is there?" Hojo said.

Portman looked back to him. "You didn't answer when I would be able to experiment on your son," she said. "I certainly didn't agree to be part of this scheme solely to watch you work."

Hojo smirked cruelly. "You will have your chance," he said. "Perhaps when Sephiroth awakens again would be a good time."

Portman nodded. "Then I will hold you to that."

"And you keep referring to him as my son," Hojo said. "Do I detect accusation in your tones?"

"No," Portman said. "Merely fact. After all, I remember well when he was born. You were so pleased to have an heir. But was this all that you wanted him for?"

"All?" Hojo said, his tone vague. "To know that he is as strong as a son of mine should be? If he was weak, he would be a disgrace."

"You don't think he's weak, to have such close ties to other people?" Portman wondered. "You always felt that it would be his undoing."

Hojo's visage twisted in wickedness. "I'm sure you'll see about bringing him to the realization of the 'truth', won't you, Portman?" he purred. "If I had raised him, as I had wanted, I never would have let it happen. But since it has, it must be . . . undone."

"Of course," Portman said. "By the time I'm through with him, he will believe that his friends have abandoned him and that they never did care about him." She paused. "But what will you do when they do come?"

"They might never find this place," Hojo said. "Would they ever consider the castle once inhabited by Organization XIII?"

"They will look until they find Sephiroth, no matter how long it takes," Portman said. "I can convince Sephiroth that they despise him, but it will be a lie. Even if it takes years, they will come."

_"Years,"_ Hojo repeated with a cackle. "Sephiroth may not still be sane in years. He may not still be sane in _days._" He sneered. "But whenever his precious friends do come, he will kill them himself."

"Excellent," Portman said. "Yes, we will see just how strong his loyalty and faith is, and obliterate it."

"Faith?" Hojo repeated. "In his friends, or even in something . . . higher?"

Portman shrugged. "Any and all," she said. "But does he even believe in a god?"

"He certainly has never spoken of it aloud, that I've heard," Hojo said. "I would have raised him atheist. As it is, who knows what he believes."

"Even if you had raised him and taught him atheism, there isn't any guarantee he would have stuck with it," Portman pointed out.

"True," Hojo said. "Especially when he has such a mind of his own. But tell me, can you really picture Sephiroth as a religious man?"

"Not particularly," Portman said. "But they do say there are no atheists in foxholes." She smirked. "I wonder if that would extend to people desperate to stay sane while at the mercy of scientists?"

Hojo laughed. "We shall see," he said. "After all, we have no mercy."

Down below, Sephiroth's wings were twitching as he moved onto his side--as if subconsciously he sensed that he was the subject of discussion.

* * *

Cloud was tense as he drove into the village boundaries hours later. By now his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and his arms were aching from being held up so that his hands gripped the steering wheel. At his side, Zack's eyes also resembled a road map. The brunet could not control a powerful yawn that ripped forth.

Hours earlier, Zack had just started to pack when he had thought of asking Merlin to teleport them here. That certainly would have been preferable, but Merlin had not been at home and Yuffie had not known when he would get back. So Zack had decided that they should stick to the original plan of driving down, instead of waiting for Merlin. And that had brought them to this point.

It was surprising to see how the village had been built up since their last visit. The houses and huts were made of stronger materials than before, and did not merely have badly thatched roofs. Several small businesses appeared to be thriving. After the defeat of the dragons, the people claiming to have fallen into ruin had been granted hope. They were taking care of themselves much better.

Zack straightened up more, seeing this. "This is really great!" he chirped. "It barely even looks like the same place."

Cloud nodded. "It's pretty encouraging," he said. "But I wonder if that guy is going to be hard to find."

"He'd been living at the edge of town," Zack mused. "So we should try there first."

Cloud drove on in silence until coming to what had been Iezon's hut. An oil lamp still burned in the window, indicating the occupant was either awake or very stupid. The blond parked the Jeep, beginning to climb out. Zack followed suit, leaning on his cane.

"Too bad they don't have telephone service yet," Cloud muttered as he headed for the door. He gave a firm rap.

The door creaked open, a turquoise eye peering back at him. After a moment it blinked and the door opened wider. Iezon, still wearing a dark cloak but no longer bearing the hood, stood in the doorway. He looked from Cloud to Zack in surprise.

"It's been a while," he commented.

"Yeah, it has," Zack chirped. "The place is looking great!"

Iezon nodded in an offhand sort of way. "Did you find your friend?" he asked.

"No," Cloud said. "We came here to ask you some stuff."

Iezon shrugged. "He isn't here," he said. "I already let the military look for him."

"Well, here's the thing," Zack said. "A mad scientist took him." He gripped his cane. "We've been looking everywhere we can think of and we've just exhausted it all. And well . . . we kinda wondered if you'd know a good place to try next. . . . Some place where mad scientists might hang out or something." He shifted. Hopefully he would not offend Iezon with this line of questioning. He would surely know why they had come to ask him about it.

Now Iezon paused, tapping the doorframe with his fingers. "Come inside," he said then. He stepped aside, allowing them entrance. Once the duo was through the doorway, he closed the door behind them.

"The villagers still don't know who you are, do they?" Zack surmised.

"I've never had a reason to tell them," was the reply.

Cloud wondered if Iezon thought that they would not accept him if they knew that he had been partially responsible for the Heartless invasion ten years ago. But that did not seem likely, either, since many of them had also committed heinous crimes as their reason for self-exile. Probably it was as he said; after all, even though Iezon had somehow ended up a leader of the people, he was not sociable.

"I'm guessing you've looked through every part of the castle in town," he said now.

"Yep," Zack said. "Up, down, left, right, sideways . . ." He shook his head with a sigh. "Nothing. The guy was there before, but he's totally cleared out now."

Iezon hesitated. "Have you ever heard of Castle Oblivion?" he asked.

Cloud's eyes narrowed. He had, from Sora as well as from his own past travels--though he had been lucky enough to have never needed to go there or venture inside. "Isn't it some kind of thing filled with dark magic?" he said.

"That's right." Iezon gave a single nod. "It used to be that upon entering, one's memories would be transformed into a deck of cards. Later, during the time when the castle was in the possession of Organization XIII, its powers were twisted even further. Through the manipulation of a witch, one could begin losing memories, even having them replaced by false remembrances."

"That's awful!" Zack gasped, his eyes wide. "So you're saying if Seph's there, he might not even remember us?!"

"I don't know how it is now," Iezon confessed. "The witch's powers are no longer active, and it's possible that when the Keybearer defeated Organization XIII, the other dark magic collapsed as well. Castle Oblivion may be completely dormant in its realm. If someone were to go inside it who doesn't have powers, such as a scientist, it would probably not activate again. Or maybe he would even be able to bend the castle's powers to his own will, if he knew how. He could erect a magic barrier to prevent Sephiroth from using his fire abilities."

Zack swallowed hard. "So . . . where _is_ its realm?" he asked.

"It's between light and dark." Iezon crossed his arms. "Even though it's closer to dark than light."

"That's an understatement," Cloud bitterly muttered. The thought of memories being taken away and even altered angered him. Who would have created such a place to begin with? The answer seemed obvious--probably some other mad scientist.

"And this is where you think Seph might've been taken?" Zack said, his stomach plummeting.

"If the scientist knows of it, then I'd say it's likely." Iezon frowned. "Who is it?" There was always the chance that he would know of the person. And if so, he might be able to shed even more light on the subject.

"Doctor Hojo." Cloud's voice was cold and hard now. Even just speaking the name felt like saying dirty words.

The visible turquoise eye widened. "Hojo . . ."

The fact that someone such as Iezon found this disturbing did not help Zack control his panic. "You do know about him?!" he exclaimed.

"He was one of Ansem's most prominent rivals," Iezon explained. "Ansem never did like him. But Xehanort found him fascinating. If things had turned out differently, he might have tried to recruit Hojo as an ally."

"That's really not encouraging," Zack moaned.

"What does Hojo want with your friend?" Iezon queried, looking from Zack to Cloud. "He never picked his subjects at random; he always had a very precise idea of what he was looking for in a guinea pig."

"He's always had a big interest in Sephiroth." Cloud frowned. "We've never known why, except that he wants to know all about Sephiroth's wings."

Iezon focused on Cloud. "Then why hasn't he been just as interested in you?"

Cloud shook his head. "I don't know," he said, helplessness washing over him. It was one of the things he had wondered off and on for some time. After all, if Hojo's main interest was the wings, then he should have found Cloud a suitable test subject as well. Instead he always bypassed Cloud for Sephiroth. But neither he or Zack had been able to come up with a reason why.

"It could be a key to what's happening now," Iezon said. "I recommend you try everything possible to arrive at an answer."

He reached for a piece of paper and a pen on the desk. "Meanwhile, I'll give you directions to Castle Oblivion."

Zack gave a grateful nod. "Thanks," he said.

He exchanged a worried look with Cloud. If there was some way to learn why Hojo was intrigued by Seph, they likely needed to find it and arrive at the answer before going to the foreboding castle. But it seemed impossible. Where would there possibly be any clues on _that?_

Or was the answer very simple?

"Hey," he said then, "what if we went to Seph's old home?"

Cloud blinked. "What for?" he demanded. "Wasn't it messed up in the Heartless attack?"

Zack nodded. "But maybe some stuff's still intact, like boxes and records and stuff! Maybe there's some clue there that'd help us figure out why Hojo's after Seph."

"I'm willing to try anything," Cloud said, and frowned. "But would that mean his parents knew about Hojo? Or that Hojo's been wanting to get Sephiroth for years?"

"I don't know." Zack gave a helpless shrug. "Maybe just something that happened when he was a kid that caught Hojo's interest."

"Maybe he's just interested because Sephiroth disappeared for a year and then popped up with wings," Cloud said. "I didn't ever actually disappear; I just wandered all around everywhere."

"Yeah, true." Zack sighed. "I'm probably just grasping at straws." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Let's try it anyway," Cloud said.

Now Iezon straightened, handing the sheet of paper to Zack. "I'd wish you good luck," he said, "but I don't believe in it."

Zack saluted. "Well, thanks a million!" he said, looking down to the directions. "We'll let you know if this works out."

"Yeah, you might want to consider telephones," Cloud remarked, gesturing by placing his hand at his ear as if holding a receiver.

"There hasn't been much need for them," Iezon said, "since these people don't have contact with anyone in the outside world."

"It'd sure be useful when we need to ask a question!" Zack said.

"Is Castle Oblivion the only place you can think of where Sephiroth might be?" Cloud asked.

"Offhand, yes," Iezon replied, "if you've already scoured Hollow Bastion. But Hojo likely has many hideouts, possibly spanning many worlds and realms."

"That's a scary thought," Zack declared.

Cloud rubbed his eyes as he headed for the door. Castle Oblivion by itself sounded bad enough. What if Sephiroth was not there and they had to find somewhere else to try? How would they ever know where a mad scientist would hang out?

He had to hope that not only would Sephiroth be at Castle Oblivion, but that if it was important to know they would be able to learn why Hojo had taken him.

Actually, when he thought of it, he also had to hope that there wouldn't be anything crazy going on at Castle Oblivion, such as decks of memory cards and memories being changed.

What were they getting into? What was Sephiroth _already_ into?

"I guess you can't come with us to make sure we do things right," Zack was saying in the present. Cloud turned back to look.

Iezon shook his head. "I have responsibilities here," he said. His voice hardened. "And I will never return to Castle Oblivion."

Zack nodded slowly. He did not altogether understand the bitterness in Iezon's tones, but it was not his place to pry. "Okay then," he said, opening the door. "Thanks again for all your help!" He hurried down the steps, heading back to the Jeep.

Cloud nodded as well. "See you later," he said, going out the door after Zack.

Iezon crossed his arms, watching the two get back into the vehicle. He lingered as the engine revved, observing as Cloud steered the Jeep away from the hut and back the way they had come. With hardly any other illumination around, the glow from the headlights remained for some time afterwards, shrinking and vanishing into the night.

Iezon sighed, stepping further inside and shutting the door. He had to wonder what it would be like, to have someone care so much about him that they would be willing to transcend all dimensions and hardships to find and help him. He could not recall that anyone had cared about him in that way.

He could not recall that he had ever cared that way about someone else, either.

What a lonely and selfish life he had always led.


	5. Fear is Only in Our Minds

**Notes: Many thanks to Lisa for plot help!**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_**31 Days: Will you ever know?**_

_**Key Blade: Fear**_

_She leaned over the body, cutting free the last restraints within the incision. Blood spurted onto her gloved hands. It was really not likely that any would hit her face, but she had seen to it that she was prepared, anyway. Protective goggles were pulled over her eyes, while a mask covered her nose and mouth. Her hair was gathered and pinned under a surgical cap._

_This was the first time she had trusted herself to go through with such a gruesome procedure. Over the past months, Dr. Hojo had introduced her to all of his research on hearts and how it would ultimately benefit the human race. They had tried and failed many times with their experiments, though the last one had come close to revealing some of what they had desired to learn. And now she had volunteered herself to enact the next operation._

_Dr. Hojo had been very pleased. Yes, he had said, he had hoped she would feel ready to try soon, and he had hoped she would say so herself. He was very confident that she could take their knowledge much further than ever._

_Of course she had still held doubts. This was a very risky procedure. But she had gone forward in determination. The test subject had volunteered for this, anxious to be of any service to the scientific world. And now they were about to go to the next step. They were going to examine his heart._

_The man's eyes snapped open. She leaped back, startled and alarmed by the abrupt action. He should not be awake! The anesthesia should have been strong enough to keep him under for the duration of the experiment. To her side, the anesthesiologist was shocked as well._

_An ear-piercing scream issued from the patient's lips--a scream of agony and rage. Then he was ripping away his restraints. With a meaty arm he reached out, swiping the instrument table to the side. Scalpels, mirrors, and other important devices clattered to the floor. The nurse stumbled back, struggling to avoid the onslaught._

_He was already bringing his hand to the IV needle in his other arm. With a mad cry he tore it out, forcing himself to sit up at the same time. Hands came down on his shoulders as nurses and doctors tried to drag him back to the slab, but to no avail. Despite the blood pouring from the open incision in his chest, he was lunging forward, his hands curled to attack Lucrecia._

_She grabbed for the wrists, her hands trembling as she fought for control. If they could not get him to lay down, and anesthetize him again, he would die. And he was already trying to kill her. He was delirious and out of his mind, not knowing what he was doing!_

_He shoved her back, at the same moment catching hold of her throat in a shaking hand. He began to squeeze, closing off her oxygen. She gasped, clawing desperately for release. Spots were starting to appear in front of her eyes._

_Then his eyes widened. With a choked gasp he let go and fell forward, tumbling off the slab to hit the floor on his stomach. The blood rushed from the gaping hole in his chest, beginning to coat the floor red. The nurses were promptly rushing to attend to him._

_Lucrecia stumbled back, her hands at her throat as she coughed and gasped for air. She tore the mask from her face, gulping in the welcome substance. Through bleary vision she watched as the nurse checking the pulse stiffened._

_"He's dead," she reported._

_Lucrecia's eyes narrowed, but all she could do was nod. Her throat was burning._

* * *

_Dr. Hojo had insisted that she take a few hours off work to recover from the experience. She had not been badly injured, but her throat had grown sore and rough after the incident, and when she had looked in a mirror, red marks were visible where she had been grabbed. Still, she had quickly asserted that she was alright and ready to get back to work. Dr. Hojo had called her into his office instead._

_"I do hope you're feeling better than you look, Dr. Crescent," he remarked as she entered a few moments later. "Perhaps the entire day off is in order."_

_"No," Lucrecia said, her voice choked and rasping. "I'm really alright, Doctor."_

_"Hmm. I admire your determination." Dr. Hojo leaned back, picking up a folder and opening it. "According to the nurse's report, you were about to remove the patient's heart when he suddenly regained consciousness."_

_"That's right. I can't imagine what could have caused it."_

_"A new mystery," Dr. Hojo mused. "Of course, it could be as simple as the dosage of anesthesia not being strong enough. Then again, it could be something much more . . . fascinating." A cruel smirk came over his features._

_Lucrecia shifted in nervousness. "Doctor?"_

_"The human will," Dr. Hojo continued, as if he had not heard her. "It's very resilient. It even still amazes me at times--what a sentient entity is capable of under the most grim circumstances." He set the folder down on his desk. "I wouldn't call the operation today a complete loss. It has only served to intrigue me all the more. I offer my congratulations, Dr. Crescent."_

_She was not certain what to say. Here was another instance where he was revealing that disturbing side of his personality. In good conscience she did not know how to accept his congratulations when all that had happened was that another man had died. The experiment was risky, but the goal had been to keep it from being fatal. And she had tried to do everything in her power to ensure the life of that man._

_"Is this what you called me here to tell me, Doctor?" she asked._

_The smirk remained. "No, Dr. Crescent," he said, "not altogether. I have a . . . new proposal for you. An arrangement of convenience that may prove a profitable venture for us both."_

_She blinked in surprise. "What is that?" she queried._

_"Dr. Crescent, I am asking for your agreement to a simple union." He looked directly at her. "A union that would bring us together under one roof."_

_Her entire body had gone stiff. She could only stare back at him, disbelieving. "A . . . a marriage?" she exclaimed._

_"It would be quite convenient, wouldn't it?" Dr. Hojo said. "We could discuss our scientific ventures much more if we were to return to the same location after a day at the laboratory. And you have mentioned at times how you wish your parents would not be so inquisitive. If you were not living with them, they would no longer be able to question you as they have been doing."_

_"But my father is ill," Lucrecia protested, her mind whirling at this bizarre turn of events. "I stay to help my mother care for him. . . ."_

_How could she possibly marry Dr. Hojo? In one way she still admired him, but more and more she was coming to fear him. To live under the same roof with him, never being away from him, sounded alarming. But she could not tell him that. She was far too afraid of what he would do. And what she said was true; she could not think of leaving her mother to tend to her father all alone._

_"Naturally I would provide the best nurse possible for him," Dr. Hojo was saying. "Do remember, also, Dr. Crescent--our experiments are supposed to remain a secret. The longer you reside with your parents, the more likely it is that they may learn something. Not that you would tell them, of course. But these things have an unpleasant way of coming to light when we least expect it."_

_She gave a slow nod. "Y-yes, I realize that, Doctor," she said, the cotton in her throat increasing._

_"Then you will consider it, I hope."_

_What was there to say? At least he was not asking for a definite yes or no right now._

_"Yes," she said, "I will consider it." She hesitated. "I'm . . . very surprised, Doctor. I never thought you would propose to me. . . ."_

_"I've been considering it for some time, my dear Dr. Crescent," Dr. Hojo smiled._

_And she had to wonder exactly why. Dr. Hojo did not love her. She did not hold any illusions about that. And the reasoning he had given sounded more like a mask for what his true motives were. The real question was, What were they?_

_She was really not sure she wanted to find out._

* * *

"You're all alone, aren't you."

Sephiroth managed a weak grunt in his throat at the unwelcome voice penetrating his consciousness. His lower left wing gave a rapid flick as he forced his eyes open. He was still in the cell. And he was staring at a pair of feminine legs. He raised his gaze, bristling at the sight of Portman standing over him with crossed arms. Clone 45 was no longer here.

"Where is he?" he demanded. He felt so weak, much more than he had the last time he had been awake. What was wrong? Had they experimented on him again? If so, had they taken 45 for experimentation as well? He had spoken to 45 more than once. The thought of him now being a Heartless, with the energy from his heart used to revive Sephiroth, seemed even more abhorrent than if it was the heart energy from more clones he had not met.

"'He'?" Portman repeated. "If you're referring to your cellmate, he was escorted out so that he would not interfere in our discussion."

Sephiroth regarded her in disgust. "We don't have anything to discuss," he said.

"On the contrary," Portman replied. "I only want to get your reactions to several facts about your situation. You have been here for days, Sephiroth. Have you tried to keep track of how many?"

He glowered. He did not have to play this game. He would not answer her.

And the truth was, he did not know how long he had been there. It could have been as few as two or three days, or as long as several weeks. Time all ran together, especially when there were only short periods of being awake to eat the meager amounts they gave him and to take care of other necessities, followed by intense periods of experimentation and then unconsciousness. It was being senseless that resulted in the most confusion. He never knew how long he had been removed from the world of awareness.

"Why do you think no one has come for you?"

Sephiroth gripped a handful of quilt. So that was what she wanted to focus on, most likely hoping that she could send him into despair over his friends' welfare. He was already despairing enough about their safety.

"Maybe they just haven't found this location yet," Portman continued, her tone slow and methodical, almost hypnotic. "Or maybe they have already been captured and are being experimented on."

Behind his lips, Sephiroth's teeth gritted. The horrible nightmare was flashing through his mind again. That was not true. Zack and Cloud were not here yet. Hojo was not doing to them what he planned to do to Sephiroth. And God-willing, he would never have the chance.

"There is another possibility."

The green eyes narrowed. He would not look at her. He would not give her that satisfaction.

"Maybe they won't come. What if they have forgotten you, Sephiroth? Or what if they don't care? Maybe they are relieved to be rid of you."

Sephiroth's stomach turned. Only someone as cruel as Portman would come up with such a scenario. To call it fiction would be too generous. Zack and Cloud loved him. They would never abandon him. They would both die before giving up the quest, and even death would not stop them. They would still come then, as ghosts if they had to, but they would come.

And he would never let them sacrifice themselves for him. The determination to find his own way out burned in his heart. He would escape and he would return to them.

"Have you ever really done anything for them? Or are they always saving you?"

That was not true, either. They had each unwillingly gotten into more than their share of trouble. They always came to each other's rescue in whatever ways possible.

"Cloud Strife, at least, has hated you. And what guarantee do you have that Zack Fair truly cares about you? Maybe he only feels an obligation and a duty to you because of how you trained him in the military. I doubt he was pleased about the trouble his soldiers got into when the clones of you arose."

Sephiroth's eyes flashed. Of course Zack had not been pleased. He had been devastated. But he had laid the blame at Hojo's feet, for creating the clones. It was not Sephiroth's fault. He had not been able to help that the clones were created.

And Cloud no longer hated him. He had harbored doubts of that once, but not any more. He knew who his friends were, and who they were not.

"You are speaking of things you know nothing about," Sephiroth spoke at last, his voice clipped and infuriated. "You are only sounding like a fool because of your lack of comprehension. And you are not worthy to speak their names, let alone to attempt deciphering what is in their minds."

Instead of being angry at these factual insults, Portman gave a curt nod. "Very well," she said. "Naturally you would not listen to me. Your loyalty and devotion are much too strong."

"Only an imbecile would think your words had merit," Sephiroth retorted. But he was suspicious. She would not give up so easily. What was she plotting now?

She regarded him with a piercing gaze, quietly smirking. "You are still so defiant," she said. "But of course you would be, right to your last breath." She turned, walking to the door of the cell and out into the laboratory. Without another word she continued heading for the door.

Sephiroth watched until she was through the door. He was still on edge. He did not trust that this madness had ended. Any minute, Hojo's lackeys could return and drag him out for another torture session. Or the next part of Portman's plan could take place. She had already known he would not listen to her. She had just wanted to rile him.

And why did he feel so weary? If he had not been tortured during a time he did not remember, maybe he had been given another drug. Or maybe the returning weariness was another part of how Hojo's "medicine" worked.

He sank further into the bed. He wanted to stay awake, but it was near impossible. Maybe he could just rest his eyes, but stay alert for anything that might go wrong. That was a weak argument, however. If he rested his eyes, he would fall asleep. He knew that would happen when he was as exhausted as he currently felt. But they slipped closed, anyway.

A sharp kick in the ribs jolted them open again. How had he missed hearing someone come in? He looked up, annoyance and outrage boiling in his veins. But then he could only stare in disbelief.

It was Cloud who was glaring down at him. His arms were crossed, and there was not any sign of relief in his eyes that Sephiroth was alive. He only looked disgusted.

"What's the matter with you?" he snapped. "You can't even get out of this mess yourself? You need us to come bail you out? You're pathetic."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. Maybe the Cloud of the past would have said something similar to him, but he never would have kicked Sephiroth. This was not Cloud. It was either a dream or a hallucination. Portman could have injected him with something before waking him up.

And the fake Cloud was only saying what Sephiroth had told himself again and again. There had to be some way to get out of this mess. He had tried many times, but when they were keeping him so weakened it was much more difficult. And that made Sephiroth disgusted with himself. The pseudo Cloud was probably a figment of his subconscious.

"I wonder why we even bother with you."

Sephiroth looked over at Zack's voice. The brunet was standing outside the cell, looking in with cold eyes. He did not make any motion to go inside.

"I mean, you never were our friend, you know? You were just a third wheel hanging around."

Cloud nodded. "We're a lot better off without you. Maybe we just won't help you at all."

Sephiroth sat up, his bangs falling forward over his eyes. There was no visible indication of what he thought about these comments. But then he forced himself to stand, looking down at the Cloud impostor.

"Cloud?"

"What."

"Shut up."

Sephiroth shoved the fake out of his way, causing him to fall onto the cot. Then he moved past, heading for the half-open door. Maybe he was strong enough that he could get out. If he could just find more clones, they could band together and attack.

He reached to push the door open the rest of the way. Electricity channeled into his body. His limbs and torso were on fire. He let go of the door, gasping as he stumbled back. Blue sparks leaped from his skin.

Portman smirked as she watched him from the room high above. He was alone in the cell, but the electricity had been real. And instead of being open, the door was actually shut. He was trapped, both physically and mentally. The drug she had given him was working.

"Let's see how you behave when the illusions don't stop," she mused. "How long will you be able to keep your sanity?"

Sephiroth shuddered in the cell, closing his eyes against the dizziness and pain. He seemed to be unaware of her presence. But from the way his upper wing was twitching, she had to wonder if subconsciously he knew.

* * *

Cloud could not help the yawn that tore free as he parked the Jeep in front of Sephiroth's childhood home. After the long drive back from the village, they had only gotten a couple hours of sleep before Zack insisted that they needed to go to Seph's house. Then they needed to get the gummi ship from the military base and start on their journey to Castle Oblivion. They could put it on auto-pilot and sleep for part of the way.

_I wish I could put the car on auto-pilot,_ Cloud muttered to himself as he stumbled out the door.

"You look like you're asleep on your feet, pal!" Zack commented as he leaped out the other side.

"I am," Cloud mumbled.

But he tried to force himself to wake up more as he followed Zack up the cracked and broken walkway to the splitting porch. It had been a nice house, once upon a time, but the devastation from the Heartless attack had rendered it unlivable.

"How long did Sephiroth live here?" Cloud wondered as he pushed open the weakened door.

"Till shortly before the Heartless attack, I think," Zack said. "I'm not sure, actually. He didn't talk about it, and I've never been here before. He only told me about it a couple weeks ago, when I asked."

He looked around the once-homey living room, sadly shaking his head. The furniture was toppled and broken, laying in every direction. The inside walls were caving in, revealing the thin space between the walls. And the ceiling was sinking downward as if it was overly burdened and could no longer take the weight. "Wow . . . what a mess," he said.

Cloud eyed the ceiling with unease. "Is it even safe to be in here?" he wondered.

"Guess we'll find out," Zack said, his tone sobered. It was awful, to have one's home in this state. There was going to be the danger of the ceiling falling on them, or them falling through the floor. He sidestepped a spot that was definitely not safe, moving towards the hallway. "They'd probably keep stuff in an office or a bedroom," he mused.

Cloud followed, his wing twitching from his displeasure at the safety hazards. "Which do we check first?" he asked.

Zack pushed open the nearest door. Beyond it appeared to be the remnants of the master bedroom. And other than cracks in the walls and ceiling, it seemed to be in better condition than most of the rooms. He advanced inside, crossing to the closet.

Cloud decided to look under the bed. Getting down on his knees, he pulled out his flashlight and peered into the darkness. A dust bunny was all too happy to make his acquaintance. A sneeze exploded.

"Gesundheit!" Zack called, grabbing the box nearest to the front of the shelf. As soon as he lifted it away, his arms buckled from the sheer weight. "Yikes! What's in this thing?!" he gasped. Struggling to hold onto it while keeping his balance, he stumbled to the bed.

Cloud glanced up. "Bowling balls?" he suggested.

Zack undid the flaps and peered inside. "Photo albums!" he exclaimed. Carefully he lifted each one out, until there was a row all along the bed. Each one was marked with the number of years it covered. Zack flipped open the first one.

"Looks like it starts out showing Seph's parents," he commented. "Here they are at their wedding."

Cloud stood, coming over to look. "Well, I can see where Sephiroth got his stern personality from," he said, tapping the image of a serious man standing at attention in the line.

"Guy didn't know how to relax," Zack said, turning the page. "Oh, hey, he looks happy here," he amended. The picture depicted the man with his new wife, standing by their wedding cake.

"Yeah, I bet," Cloud snarked. "Now he doesn't have to hang around and greet people anymore."

Zack flipped through the rest of the album and then snapped it shut. "She should be getting pregnant with Seph pretty soon," he said, starting the second album. "Looks like each album covers a year or two."

But there were no such pictures. And then Zack started in surprise. The albums had been going chronologically, but the third one obviously had made a huge jump. It opened with pictures marked "Sephiroth, Age Two."

"No baby pictures?!" Zack exclaimed in disbelief. The lady had been very fond of taking pictures. It seemed bizarre that she would not have any from Seph's infancy, or during the time she was pregnant with him. But a quick scan of the book showed that Seph only got older in the pictures. The others were simply not there.

"Weird," Cloud frowned. "Maybe they got lost. It happens."

Zack turned back to the front of the album. "Aww, wasn't he a cute kid?" he smirked. "Look at those big wide eyes."

"Heh." Cloud studied the picture without further comment. "Maybe there's an explanation on the back of it?" he suggested.

Zack blinked. "Guess it's worth a try," he said, slipping it out of its pocket and turning it over. Faded blue ink greeted his eyes.

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "What the heck? All it says is, 'Our darling son sitting by the living room drapes. Those drapes are very special to me. I hope that they can remain up for as long as we live here. I've told them my secrets.'"

"She sounds even more sentimental than me!" Zack remarked. But then he frowned. "'. . . Secrets'?" Could it be a riddle? What if at least some of the answers they wanted really were here, perhaps concealed inside the hem of a drape?

Cloud seemed to have the same idea. He crossed to the hall, looking towards the living room. "They're not out there," he said.

Zack gave a thoughtful nod. "I just remembered!" he declared. "Seph said that he took some stuff and boxed them up, like the drapes. But that was during the year when nobody could see him and he didn't have anywhere to go, so he had to leave the box somewhere in the house."

"Here?" Cloud wondered, looking back to the closet. There were definitely other boxes around.

"Let's look!" Zack chirped. Hurrying back to the closet, he took out another box. "This one's pretty light," he commented. Balancing it with one arm, he pulled off the sealing tape before reaching inside and pulling out a toddler-size shirt.

"Well, we won't be needing that any time soon," Cloud snorted. "Is the whole box his old clothes?"

Zack peered inside. "Yep," he said. Setting it aside, he reached for another.

"This is more like it," he said as he pulled it open. What looked like folded drapes were on the top.

"Are those the same ones from the picture?" Cloud wondered.

Zack nodded, pulling it out. "Hey, they're not in too bad a condition," he said. "A little faded, but not irreparable!"

"Does it feel like anything's in the hems?" Cloud asked.

Zack felt along the thick bottom edge. "Nope," he said. "Guess we'll have to undo the whole thing. It can get sewed back up later." With that he began to pull at the hem. The thread snapped, beginning to unravel as Zack eased the cloth apart. But there was nothing hidden inside, not even a small scrap of paper.

Cloud let out an exasperated sigh. "I'll take the next one," he said.

As he followed suit in undoing the hem, a piece of paper floated to the floor. His eyes widened. He reached down, snapping it up. "It's addressed to Sephiroth," he said.

Zack's expression grew serious. "If he was just here to read it," he said, the sadness and worry creeping into his voice.

Cloud unfolded it, scanning over the neat handwriting. The color drained from his face. Was he really reading this? Was he understanding it right, or was it some kind of elaborate gag planted by someone who had gotten here first? It was definitely the same handwriting as on the picture. It had to be for real, and yet how could it be? This was a nightmare.

"What does it say?!" Zack gasped.

Cloud shook his head, passing the letter to Zack. The brunet took it in surprise, then stiffened.

_My dear son,_

_It has meant so much to me to be able to call you "son" through the years. I have always felt that you are truly my own--mine and your father's. I know he would be so proud of you if he could see you now, becoming a powerful leader in the military just as he was. You have always done so much for both him and me. Our lives have been brighter because you were here._

_I am so sorry we never told you what I am about to write. You know we would never want to keep anything from you. But we were both afraid--yes, even your father. There has been one man who came into our lives who has always been very capable of tearing down anything or anyone in his way. We were afraid he would take you from us. He threatened to many times, and he has proven through the years that he has been watching us all._

_That man is Doctor Hojo. He is supposed to be a respectable scientist, but it is not true. He is beyond feeling the pains of whatever conscience he may have had. He cares only for his experiments._

_Dear Sephiroth, I can barely stand to write this, but this man is your biological father. Your biological mother brought you to us when you were two years old. She gave her life to place you with people who would love and care for you as every child should be treated. We found you on our porch that night, crying in confusion for your mother. Whatever you saw and felt that night, it was so horrible that you later blocked the entire experience from your young mind. We thought it best not to remind you._

_We were going to tell you that you were adopted when you were old enough to understand, but Doctor Hojo contacted us shortly after we were allowed to keep you. He told us that we could never tell you the truth. And he backed up his threats by having your uncle murdered. That fatal car crash was not an accident, even though we told you it was. And there have been other things he has done, whenever he believed that we were going to go against his wishes. Your father tried several times to bring an end to these horrors. The last time he tried, he himself was the victim. Doctor Hojo murdered him during that battle!_

_I was afraid that I would be next. I would not have cared about giving my own life, had I been able to stop him, but I could not bear the thought of leaving you all alone. If I had died without seeing him brought to justice, he would surely have taken you. And so I kept quiet._

_Your father and I both agreed that you should know the truth when you came of age. I am afraid that Doctor Hojo will come for you sooner or later, and I long for you to be aware of the danger before that happens. You are seventeen now, and my health is failing. By the time you come back from your assignment, I may have already joined your father. So I am writing you this letter, which I will leave in a safe place. I will leave clues for you to be able to find it if you look._

_I know this will all come as a horrible shock for you. You may be angry at us at first, for keeping the truth hidden. But please know that we only ever did for you what we felt best._

_I love you with all my heart._

_Mother_

Zack gripped the paper in his hands, shaking from his outrage and anger. "Seph's father?!" he cried. "Hojo's his _father?!_"

"So that's it." Cloud's voice was cold. "That's why Hojo always focuses on Sephiroth."

Zack swallowed the lump in his throat. "I hate how it all makes sense," he said weakly. "The dreams Seph was having, Hojo being so interested in him . . ."

"Dreams?" Cloud frowned.

"He was remembering the night his biological mother ran off with him," Zack said. "I only know 'cause I heard him fall out of bed one night after having the dream. He didn't want to tell anyone because he thought it didn't mean anything."

"Too bad it did." Cloud looked to the doorway. "Let's get out of here. We should get started for Castle Oblivion before any more time goes by."

Zack nodded, folding the letter and placing it in the third photo album. Then he began packing the albums back into the box. "We're taking this with us," he said. "And that one with the bedding and drapes in it and stuff."

Cloud raised an eyebrow.

"No sense letting it waste!" Zack said. "Seph only left it because he didn't have anywhere to go. But now he does. These things'll be at home when Seph comes back with us." He hoisted the heavy box into his arms, heading for the door.

Grabbing up the other box, Cloud followed.


End file.
